


Even a Broken Clock Is Right Twice a Day

by accioslash



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accioslash/pseuds/accioslash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron thinks it’s completely unfair that everyone besides Harry is paired off. Ron takes it upon himself to correct this oversight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even a Broken Clock Is Right Twice a Day

Ron had a very strong sense of justice, and the situation was getting up his nose. Being the youngest of six brothers made Ron a self-appointed authority on unfairness. And this situation with Harry was completely unfair. Really, if anyone deserved to be happy it was Harry. But He-Who-Must-Not-Be...okay, okay... _Voldemort_ , was a not-so-distant memory and life moved on. For everyone except Harry, that is.

Ron didn't really know what had happened between Harry and Ginny, but after the final battle it just wasn't the same. And Ginny was dating Dean now and looking far too cozy for someone who was heartbroken. It seemed like everyone was paired off: Ron had Hermione, Bill had Fleur, George had Angelina (and wasn't _that_ just barmy). Even Percy had someone.

But not Harry.

So just what kind of bird would Harry fancy? Ron hadn't the foggiest idea so when he found an old copy of _Witch Weekly_ with a quiz devoted to "Finding the Man of Your Dreams," he figured it couldn't hurt to look. Sure it was supposed to help birds find blokes, but how much different could it be?

Hm...

Mutual interests, intellectual compatibility...good personality and a sense of humor? Seriously? That's how a woman found the man of her dreams?!

Gah!

Too bad Harry wasn't looking for a bloke. Blokes were just easier. And they all liked the same things. What bloke didn't want someone who got you half hard just looking at them? Not someone tarted up in an obvious way, but sexy in a way that just sort of sneaked up on you. Someone who would make you work for it. Someone with a hint of fire to them. Someone who, when they clashed with you, clashed hard. And when they connected, connected deeply. Someone persistent. Someone who wouldn't just chuck everything the first time a bloke said something stupid or looked a little too long at an attractive bum. Someone who had a bit of mystery about them to keep things interesting, but still someone a bloke could count on.

Too bad Ron was with Hermione. He'd make a great boyfriend for Harry, what with them already being best mates and all. They already knew each other’s secrets. It's not like you could hide much after living and showering together in the dormitory for six years and then camping in a leaky tent for what felt like ages. It was true, what his mother said: "The good ones are always taken."

But being best mates could be a problem, too. Do you _really_ want to be married to someone who knows that when you run out of clean pants you just wear an old pair inside out?

Ron and Hermione were best friends, too, but there were some things she didn't know. And with her being a girl and all, it was like she was a different species half the time. There'd be no chance to get bored with her. Especially if she continued to do that thing she did with her tongue.

Well, if a friend wasn't the answer, what about an enemy?

Malfoy was good looking. In a pointy, posh, ferrety-way. If you liked that sort of thing. And Harry _had_ spent most of their Sixth year chasing after the bloody prat. Well, when he wasn't pining over the Half-Blood Prince.

Hah!

Now _that_ was a laugh. Harry was all up in that potions book doing everything but making kissy faces at it and who was the Prince? _Snape!_ What a joke on Harry.

Well, not so much at the time, mind. It was pretty awful since Harry had damn near picked out china patterns for the Prince only to discover that not only was he Snape, but that he murdered Dumbledore. Well, it was really more like a mercy killing and Dumbledore himself had ordered Snape to do it. But Harry hadn’t known that at the time.

Too bad Harry couldn't find someone like the Prince who also happened to still be single. Of course Snape was single, even if he was pardoned by the Ministry and considered a war hero. Who'd want to date Snape? It's not like anyone could find the man attractive or even interesting. Well, besides Harry.

Come to think on it, Harry _was_ pretty obsessed with the Prince. Several times during Sixth year he had come close to chucking his friendship with Hermione over Snape. Well, over the Prince, anyway. But the Prince was Snape. No, not _was_ Snape. The Prince _is_ Snape. Present tense. And it wasn't like Snape was paired up with anyone either.

Just like Harry.

It was perfect.

Now all Ron had to do was convince Harry. Then it would be Harry’s job to convince Snape. After all, Ron was the idea man while Harry was more of a do-er.

And loads more suicidal.

* * * * *

Harry watched as Ron sacrificed a fifth pasty as part of his after tea snack and then gathered the fixings for a sandwich.

"So, you see mate, you need to go out with Snape," Ron reiterated, pointing with a slice of bread for emphasis.

Still no more enlightened than he was the first time Ron had tried to explain his reasoning, Harry figured it couldn't hurt to try once more. "Let me see if I have this right. You were reading an old copy of one of Ginny's _Witch Weeklies_ and you found a quiz that predicted that my soul mate is Severus Snape?"

"Yes. Well, no." Ron made a face that reminded Harry of the first time he had seen Narcissa Malfoy at the Quidditch World Cup and she looked like she spent her entire life smelling something bad. "Bloody hell, Harry. I didn't say anything about soul mates. That'd be daft...and more than a bit skeevy, yeah? Just that the article says he's the perfect match for you."

Harry hardly knew where to begin. "Ron. Did you fail to consider that not only is he Snape - _Snape!_ \- but he's a bloke. What if I told you I read an old quiz and it told me _your_ perfect match was Snape?"

Ron slapped another slice of roast beef on his sandwich and looked at Harry like he had just suggested that Muggles could fly. Or possibly, that he should date Severus Snape. "Well, that would be mental. I'm with Hermione what with all our mutual interests and all that girly rubbish." Ron took a big bite of sandwich and mostly finished chewing before replying thoughtfully, "'Sides, if I were going to get matched with a bloke it'd prolly be you. But you know about that thing I do with my pants so it would never work out." Ron placed the sandwich back on the plate with a flourish and concluded confidently. "So Snape is really the only one for you, mate."

"What if," Harry asked reasonably, "I don't want to be with Snape?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "Your choice, mate. But don't blame me when you end up alone."

* * * * *

Harry was jerked forcibly behind a curtain. Strong hands wrapped around the base of his skull and a man kissed him. Hard, lips-only kisses for several minutes, that erupted quick as spellfire into something more. Harry slipped his tongue between thin lips and the taste of the man, the heat of his mouth, the damp feel of his tongue, the slick unforgiving surface of his teeth hit him like nothing else ever had. It was all hotslickwet and stained fingers raked through the sweat-soaked hairs at the nape of Harry's neck as his lover pushed him down, down, down.

Blunt fingers slid briefly over pebbled nipples and scrabbled to pluck at a zip that sounded unnaturally loud in the hidden alcove.

The man's smalls were already moist with a smudge of pre-come as Harry reached into the slit to free the straining organ trapped inside. The dark red cock bobbed up and slapped against his lover's stomach and Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, yes," Harry said, and bent his head to lick at the damp curls as he pushed the garment further down the man's legs to pool around his knees. The man spread his thighs wide and thrust reflexively into the touch.

"Where have you been all my life?" Harry murmured, his mouth and hands everywhere. Touching, mouthing, teeth lightly nipping anywhere he could reach.

Snape groaned, trying not to buck his lover free, nails digging crescents into his tightly fisted palms. "Prostrating myself before a powerful yet insane wizard with delusions of grandeur. Oh, and similarly occupied before the Dark Lord."

Harry could feel Snape trying to hold himself still. "Ha ha. Not _you_. _Him_ ," Harry said, giving Snape's cock a long, wet lick.

"Though you may consider it unfortunate, we come as a set."

"You should have introduced me sooner."

"Any sooner, Mr Potter, and there would be an entire wing of Azkaban devoted to my...shall we say, rehabilitation. War hero or no. Speaking of which, if we don't finish shortly your retinue is apt to mount a search for their missing savior. Now, if you don't mind, please resume what you had been doing before you decided to spurn my dubious affections in favor of those of my cock."

Grinning madly, Harry thrust a finger in his mouth. He sucked wetly, saliva dribbling out of his mouth as he traced a slippery path from Snape's balls to his anus. His finger circled the tight pucker as he wrapped his lips around the glans and began to search for the rhythm and suction that would drive Snape mad. Pre-come pooled in Snape's slit and Harry sucked hard once at the head and then ran his open mouth all the way down in one long, continuous slide. Alternating long, slow strokes with short and fast bobbing. He rolled Snape's balls even as the tip of one finger breached the man, quickly moving down to the second knuckle to slide in and out of the man's arse.

Snape couldn’t breathe. Every muscle in his body was paralyzed except the ones that forced his cock to throb and jerk and spend itself inside Harry's warm mouth. Harry's other hand was a blur of movement and Snape felt Potter go rigid as his own orgasm washed over him.

Several moments and a few carefully chosen spells later a perfectly composed Snape handed his still somewhat flushed and unsteady lover a glass of what passed for punch at every Ministry function. Harry was still gathering his wits when he realized Snape and he were no longer alone in this area of the building, and in fact shared their location with multiple witnesses. He surreptitiously slipped a hand down to check his flies were closed.

"Surely even someone as dim-witted as Weasley would not believe we started our liaison based on such an absurd premise."

Harry shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. People want to believe that there's someone out there for everyone. Gives them hope for their own lives." Harry turned and looked directly into dark eyes. "Besides, he's right. I don't want to end up alone. And I don't want to hide anymore. I want everyone to know about us. And if Ron thinks it was his idea that's okay by me." Harry leaned in conspiratorially. "Like a bull terrier that one, especially if he thinks someone is trying to hurt me. Actually, the whole family. You'd best be careful. Dark Lords and deranged Headmasters will seem like a walk in the park compared to a Weasley protecting one of their own."

The corners of Snape's mouth quirked in a not-quite grin. "I consider myself duly warned. My congratulations, Potter. You have achieved something no other wizard has managed. The threat of incessant Weasley nagging should I abuse you has me appropriately cowed." The mouth blossomed into a fully-fledged smirk. "Very well, you may owl me next week to arrange a suitably ostentatious and very public luncheon, complete with gawkers lined up four-deep on either side."

Snape then noticed the appearance of Ron Weasley, who somehow successfully managed to appear both uncertain and bravely determined at the same time. "It appears we have been on display a sufficient amount of time to cause your fan club to consider it necessary to rescue you from the clutches of your loathsome old Potions teacher." Snape paused. "You realize that idiot boy will eventually let it slip that he believes we became a couple based on the advice gleaned from an article in a periodical? A periodical, moreover, that is best known for conferring an annual "Most Charming Smile" award." Snape shuddered dramatically. "That rag will sell in the millions."

"Good job it's been recently purchased by several of your former Slytherins then, eh?"

"One must always look for the silver lining, Mr Potter."

* * * * *

Ron stood a discreet (and safe) distance away and watched. His best mate and Snape managed a few syllables of civil conversation before the greasy git stalked off looking just as ugly and unpleasant as ever. Perhaps suggesting that Snape was the right man for Harry hadn't been the best idea he'd ever had. A rather subdued Ron made his way over to Harry.

"Look, mate. Perhaps the results of that quiz were a bit wonky."

Harry looked thoughtful. "I don't know, Ron. I think you just might be on to something. I'm to owl him about a date next week."

"Really?" Ron brightened, but sobered immediately as guilt waved a hand for attention. "Actually, Harry, I did play a bit fast and loose with that test." The tips of Ron’s ears turned red and he blew out a breath. "Well, what I mean is, I didn't really read it at all. You know I'm pants at giving advice. That's more Hermione's department. I just didn't want to see you by yourself. Wasn’t right, is all. Though now that I think on it, I must have been mental to think anyone would be better off with that git."

Harry smiled a genuine smile that reached his eyes. He looked happier than Ron had ever remembered seeing him, which was saying something. "Actually, your advice was spot-on and I'm glad you talked me into it. I think Severus and I could really make a go of it."

"Severus, eh?" Ron looked chuffed. "You know, maybe I have a knack for this sort of thing - match-making. I'll bet there’s a lot of galleons in something like that. Bit like Divination, really. If I cock-up I can just say I've a speck in my Inner Eye. Though I don't imagine I'll want to say anything about wanting to see Lavender's Uranus again around Hermione. Not much of a sense of humor, that one." Ron looked thoughtful. "You know, I always thought Neville and Luna could make a go of it. Or perhaps Neville and Malfoy. You shouldn't be the only bloke stuck with a Slytherin. It’s a bit uneven. Think I might just suggest that what with you and Snape working out so well."

“Ron, I think it might be best to quit while you’re ahead.”

Ron grabbed Harry’s punch glass and pretended to peer intently inside. Ron affected a misty falsetto. “Ah, Harry, I am sorry to say that it is apparent that you do not have what the noble art of matchmaking requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly Mundane. The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know....”*

Harry sniggered. “I’ll be sure to warn Neville. Malfoy, however, is on his own.”

“I don’t know, mate. I’m one for one at the mo and even Trelawney managed two real predictions. Maybe you can ask Snape to warn the ferret.”

Harry rubbed absently at his scar and considered it. But in the end decided to let the chips fall where they may. Certainly stranger things had happened. And if things kept working out as great as they had been, all would be well. This time anyway.

 

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> *Loosely adapted from a speech by Sybill Trelawney in Chapter 15 of Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban


End file.
